


Hiring: Best Job You'll Ever Have!

by surrealmeme



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No 'S', Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hot Springs & Onsen, M/M, Reki and Langa are just regular teens with a skateboarding hobby, Reki and Langa work at Joe's Restaurant, Skateboarding, there's no S
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: “Any chance he’s hiring? If you’ve got enough money to keep ordering stuff from that skate shop, he must pay pretty well, right?”Scenarios flashed through Reki’s mind—spending the whole day with hiscrushbest friend, discussing their latest skateboard tricks while rolling cutlery, flicking soapy water at each other in the kitchen, going for a snack after their shift… maybe even brushing hands when passing dishes or clearing tables.Anyway—“Don’t know if he’s hiring, but you’vegot towork here! It’s almost closing time, help me clean up so he’s in a good mood when we ask.”
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom, but implied
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	Hiring: Best Job You'll Ever Have!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yxurstruly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yxurstruly/gifts).



> A gift for my lovely and very talented friend yxurstruly! Check out her fics, they're excellent.

“So, you said you know a good place?” Langa asked, swinging his skateboard under his arm.

Reki nodded, his enthusiasm making his hair bounce to a comical degree.

“Yeah! It’s just down that street,” he said, pointed somewhere ahead of them.

“The place” happened to be an Italian restaurant, somewhat small but critically acclaimed. Reki waved Langa inside then caught the eye of a tall man in a chef’s jacket, who motioned towards the back of the restaurant.

Once he and Reki had picked out a table, Langa said,

“Kind of a fancy place to let us seat ourselves—I swear I saw a host at the front.”

“Yeah, but I know the owner. We’re friends! He lets me call him Joe.”

Something about Reki’s too-wide grin clued Langa in.

“He’s your boss, isn’t he?”

Reki heaved a great sigh.

“ _Fine_ , you figured it out. There aren’t that many employees—he likes doing stuff himself—so we get pretty good discounts and get to drop by for a meal whenever we want. Well, within reason, I guess, but still.”

Langa looked pretty impressed with the benefits of this particular high school part-time job.

“So, he’s a good boss?”

“Yeah, actually! Knows what he’s doing, good at making sure people don’t screw up, but is also really chill? Don’t really know how that’s possible, but I’m not complaining.”

“I see,” Langa nodded. “Any chance he’s hiring? If you’ve got enough money to keep ordering stuff from that skate shop, he must pay pretty well, right?”

Scenarios flashed through Reki’s mind—spending the whole day with his ~~crush~~ _best friend_ , discussing their latest skateboard tricks while rolling cutlery, flicking soapy water at each other in the kitchen, going for a snack after their shift… maybe even brushing hands when passing dishes or clearing tables. _Anyway_ —

“Don’t know if he’s hiring, but you’ve _got to_ work here! It’s almost closing time, help me clean up so he’s in a good mood when we ask.”

“Um, okay!”

In a whirlwind of manic energy, their plates were in the dishwasher, the table was gleaming, the restaurant was prepped for the next day, and Langa had the job. He barely even remembered what he and Reki had said to cajole and convince Joe. Regardless, Langa walked home with dreams of disposable income.

+++

Carrying a bus bin laden with dishes, glasses, and silverware, Langa shouldered past the kitchen doors and just about dropped the thing onto the nearest clear countertop. Filling his bin to the top to reduce the number of trips had _not_ been as efficient as he had hoped. He rolled his shoulders, stretched out his arms, and swiftly knocked a quart container of oil to the floor.

The lid flew off, lodging itself under the dishwasher; the viscous oil coated the floor in a gleaming pool, the fluorescent lights transmuting it into molten gold—but, like, if gold was a harbinger of doom.

 _“Shit_.”

Langa ran his fingers through his hair, looking around the kitchen for someone who might be able to help. The cooks were perpetually busy and not an option; there weren’t any other servers or busboys in the kitchen. Langa rushed back into the restaurant proper, pointedly avoiding Joe. Langa scanned the large room until he spotted his beacon of hope—a shock of wild red hair.

 _“Hey! Reki!_ ” he sharply whispered. “Are you busy?”

“Uh, not really? My only two tables got their food, like, ten minutes ago, and I just checked on them.”

“Okay, great, ‘cause you gotta come save me.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Do you know how to clean up an oil spill?”

“You mean, like, from the ocean? Wish I did,” Reki joked.

Langa huffed.

“Funny, but not the time. It’s more like ‘I spilled the entire tub of oil on the floor and I have no idea what to do.’”

Reki paused for a bit, taken aback, and Langa was sure he was out of luck.

“Oh yeah, I know a really good trick for it, come on!”

“Wait, _really?”_

Langa hurried after Reki back into the kitchen.

“Okay, so get me the big thing of salt, baking soda, and the long scrub brush.”

Langa did so, clutching the items like sword and shield(s).

“Pour the salt all over the spill to absorb the oil,” Reki instructed. “I’ll do the baking soda.”

Once the oil had been thoroughly baking soda-ed and salted, Reki continued,

“Now, we’ll get a whole buncha dish towels and mop up as much we can.”

Reki and Langa threw the towels down (but only literally!) and furiously wiped at the floor. Consequently, there were several close calls when their arms slipped out from under them and they nearly face-planted into the oil-salt-baking soda concoction.

 _“Right,”_ Reki huffed, trying to catch his breath from both exertion and laughter. “I’m gonna grab the dish soap, can you fill that bucked with warm water? Like, uh, halfway?”

Upon regrouping, Reki emptied a good half of the bottle onto the remaining oil; Langa heaved the bucket to shoulder-height and unceremoniously upended it.

“All we gotta do now is scrub the floor and send the water down the drain.”

“I’ll let you do the honors,” Langa said. “Since I fetched everything for you.”

“Ugh, _fine_.”

Reki made a show of pouting and grumbling, but quickly cleaned up anyway.

“Okay, but for real, though—thanks _so much_ ,” Langa said.

Reki leaned onto the long wooden handle of the scrub brush.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. Anything for you, y’know?”

+++

“Langa, Reki!” Joe called. “Are you two good to stay a bit later today? I want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Reki responded, while Langa flashed two thumbs-up. Despite their enthusiastic affirmatives and Joe’s jovial manner, the two boys couldn’t help but worry.

Turns out they needn’t have.

“Are you sure? I’ve only been here for a month and a half,” Langa said.

“Absolutely—you know we keep a small staff here, so everyone needs to be able to take care of a wide range of duties. You’ve learned remarkably fast, and we _have_ been getting a few more regulars since you started working shifts as a server,” Joe said, finishing off with a large grin.

And well, it was true. Some of the girls from school—the ones that called Langa a bunch of weird nicknames, according to Reki—had been dropping by the restaurant far more often than the average teenager. Yes, Reki understood it was good for business and that Joe had been wanting to expand their clientele, but that didn’t stop him from being annoyed that all of Langa’s time was being monopolized by just one or two tables. If anyone was gonna hang out with Langa when work was slow, it was gonna be Reki. That was only natural, right? As Langa’s best friend?

“So,” Joe continued, “I think the natural next step is for you to learn to open. Two weekends a month, what do you think? Reki will teach you.”

Reki nodded his assent.

“That works for me,” Langa said. “Starting this weekend?”

“Yeah, why not? And you know what? If you finish opening early, have some coffee and pastries on the house. And I’ll only schedule you two for a half shift, yeah?”

Both Reki and Langa brightened up so significantly that it was almost comical.

“Really? You’re the coolest boss, Joe!” Reki exclaimed.

“Yeah, so you’d better not go quitting on me,” Joe said back. “You kids go home now, I’ll see you on Saturday.”

When the weekend rolled around, Reki gladly got out of his warm bed and ventured onto the cold tile of the bathroom. Yeah, waking up early to go to work still sucked, but he would get to hang out with Langa _and_ get free food. Taking care not to wake his sisters, Reki left the house and locked the door behind him.

 _you coming?_ he messaged.

 _5 min_ , came Langa’s response.

As promised, Langa rolled to a stop at Reki’s door just a few minutes later, and the two headed off towards the restaurant. The morning air was still cool and refreshing on their faces, the sun casting a clean, bright light free of any oppressive heat.

“Okay, so the key’s in that lockbox,” Reki said. “The code’s the year Joe opened this place, 2005.”

“Huh, I’ve never seen it on the door before.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty ugly, so whoever opens takes it off and sticks it somewhere in the host station. Joe puts it back on when he leaves.”

Langa nodded his understanding and went to retrieve the key. He did so, pushed it into the keyhole, and opened the door to reveal a silent, half-lit restaurant.

“Feels kinda peaceful like this,” he remarked.

Reki followed Langa inside and stood by him, letting the ambience wash over him. Langa was right, the restaurant felt as though it sat suspended in time. They hadn’t yet set up, hadn’t given the building the “go ahead” to start the day and enter the wider world. It felt like Reki and Langa could stay in that pocket of time and space indefinitely, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Of course, that tranquility was promptly shattered by the activation of the motion-controlled lights.

“Right,” Langa said. “What should I do first?”

The next thirty minutes went by quickly, with Reki narrating his more technical tasks as Langa lifted all the chairs off the tables and got the three coffee machines started. Reki walked Langa through starting up the POS ticketing system, then they went into the kitchen and prepped so the line cooks would be able to start right away. On their way out, Reki took a bin of rolled-up cutlery and Langa one filled with glasses; they made a second round through the restaurant, setting places.

“And we’re done!” Reki announced. “Not too bad, right?”

“Doesn’t change the fact I’m starving,” Langa said. “Those croissants we set out looked good.”

“They _did_ —can you go get, like, four of them? I’ll grab the coffeepot and cups.”

The two boys settled in a booth near the back of the restaurant, one of the smaller ones. It was unpopular for those reasons, but Langa rather disagreed. He appreciated the privacy afforded by its location, and the size made one feel closer to whoever they were dining with. Reki had similar feelings about their particular booth, realizing that the location of the window (slightly offset from the center of the table, allowing for plenty of natural light without the sun being directly on the customers) let the sunlight perfectly bounce off of Langa’s hair, the highlights adding fascinating depth and shifting color—

 _What the hell? What kinda sappy poetic bullshit…_ Reki thought but immediately decided it was too early in the morning to actually consider the implications of his thoughts. Besides, they opened in fifteen minutes, and Reki intended to spend them planning his and Langa’s next skate session.

+++

Early on in his job, Langa met Sakurayashiki Kaoru—though it had been swiftly ingrained in him to call the man “Cherry.” Apparently it was some inside joke he and Joe had since high school? It never failed to aggravate Cherry, as he claimed the name wasn’t “for here,” whatever that meant.

Neither Langa or Reki really knew the story behind it, but as long as they could watch the inevitable overblown fights that truly embodied “dinner and a show,” they didn’t really care. Because every time Cherry marched into Joe’s restaurant, Reki and Langa’s epic battle raged once more.

You see, Reki believed the “fights” were how Cherry and Joe flirted and danced around each other. Langa was certain those intricate rituals were actually foreplay, as the two were already together. With every appearance Cherry made, whispers and snickers abounded.

“You really think _Cherry_ would let someone act like that if they weren’t actually together?” Langa challenged.

“What, and you really think that friendship can’t be just as strong a bond?” Reki parried.

“He waltzes into this place at _least_ three times a week just to tease Joe and pick these ‘fights’ with him! Which are always on, you know, the days we get to go home early? What do you think they’re doing that they want to be alone? They’re—”

“They’re not dates! They might want them to be dates, but they’re _not dates_.”

“Yeah? And how do you know that?”

“Because—because their childhood friendship is so important to them that they don’t know how to transition to a romantic relationship without, like, fundamentally changing that dynamic and it scares them, so they just do this whole _thing_ to pretend they don’t actually like each other so they can avoid dealing with their feelings,” Reki blurted out. “Wait, that was actually good. How did I even come up with that?”

“I dunno, probably from watching one of your mom’s soap operas while also reading some psych 101 textbook?” Langa teased.

“Oh, whatever. Just come help me bus my section, you barely have any tables right now.”

+++

Reki and Langa pulled on their long, puffy coats, psyching themselves up to make the journey home in the dead of winter and dreading it regardless. So, they were more than relieved to hear Joe calling them back.

“So, remember when you said I was the ‘coolest boss?’”

“Um, yes?” Reki answered.

“Well, you’d better upgrade me to ‘best boss ever,’” Joe said with a grin that promised a boon, “’cause Cherry and I’ve hooked you two up with a stay at the onsen. Well, he paid for most of it with part of a ridiculous bonus a client gave him, but I’m the one who _actually_ made it happen, know what I mean?”

Reki and Langa traded looks of shock and incredulity, as Joe relished their expressions.

“You… can’t be serious,” Langa said.

“I am! I’ve even got the booking receipts right here. The only thing you’ll need to cover is the ferry ride over.”

Joe extended the papers; the boys took them hesitantly. Once they had properly absorbed the fact that _yes_ , their boss had just handed them a private vacation (No parents! No siblings!), they responded in kind.

“Oh my god, you really _are_ the best boss, this is incredible!”

“Thank you _so much_!”

“Hey, you two’ve been great employees this year. I appreciate it, really.”

Quite a bit later but far, _far_ happier, Reki and Langa headed home, their excited chatter ringing through the air. They didn’t feel the cold.

+++

“Where am I ever gonna find a part-time job like this again?” Langa mused, flopping onto the tatami mats of the ryokan floor. “They do kaiseki! My mom always said she missed it in Canada.”

“Wanna go put in an order with the front desk? Then scope out the area for some skating after dinner?”

“Like you even need to ask,” Langa said, jumping back up from the floor.

Reki tilted his head and gestured towards Langa, as if to say, _Fair point._ They walked back to the lobby, joking with and lightly jostling each other as they traipsed down the long hallways. Overbalancing, Langa almost sent himself careening into one of the shoji doors; Reki sharply turned on his heel, caught Langa’s forearm, and pulled him back up. Of course, this also caused a dramatic shift in momentum—unbalanced yet again, Langa’s feet failed to find purchase on the glossy floor and kept stumbling into Reki. Unprepared for the sudden weight of Langa falling onto his chest, Reki fell backwards, sending the both of them sprawling onto the floor. Reki’s shoulder made first impact with the floor, which was good; Langa’s elbow slammed into his stomach, which was very much _bad_.

“Well, so much for not falling into the doors,” Reki remarked after the two boys had hauled themselves up off the floor.

“Would you be comforted by knowing you made an excellent fall cushion?”

“ _No!”_

Reki and Langa managed to make the rest of the journey to the front desk without incident, where they calmly placed their orders and pretended they had no knowledge of the “loud crash.” Upon returning to their room, the boys changed into the provided yukata and lounged about, snacking on the mandarin oranges Reki’s mom had sent with them and talking about nothing.

Soon enough, the kaiseki meal arrived, beautifully and immaculately presented in a black lacquered bento box. Reki and Langa spent a few moments taking photos and admiring the food, then proceeded to plow through it. The flavors were simple and clean, delicious without being overly sumptuous or layered. Langa finished off his hamachi kama and set his chopsticks down with a click, leaning back onto his elbows.

“Okay, yeah, I get what my mom was saying. This was _so good_.”

Reki nodded his assent as he drank some tea. The two boys sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing their sated relaxation. However, a confused and slightly guilty look came across Langa’s face.

“Is it just me or are you…still kinda hungry? It was good, but not actually that filling, I think.”

Reki heaved a sigh of relief and grinned.

“ _Yes,_ me too! I was thinking I was the weird one for still being hungry—you wanna skate down to that little convenience store and grab some cup ramen or something? They also had curry croquettes.”

Seventeen minutes later and two bags of junk food richer, Reki and Langa returned to their room and spread their winnings over the table.

“The shrimp chips are mine!” Reki declared.

In response, Langa’s hand shot forward, seizing the sole packet of yaki onigiri; Reki’s eyes narrowed, scoping out his next target. Predictably, the next forty seconds flashed by in a flurry of snatching hands. Cracking up, the boys emerged from the fray with twin mountains of plastic bags and cardboard boxes.

“Trade you the instant udon for, uh, my egg tarts?” Langa offered.

“Throw in rice crackers and we have a deal.”

“What? Fuck off, no way.”

“Ugh, fine, just the tarts.”

In about the same amount of time they had taken to peacefully savor their dinner, Reki and Langa devoured their junk food. A mistake, surely.

“Well, I’m not hungry anymore, I’ll tell you that,” Langa said.

“More like ‘I feel like shit,’” Reki mumbled, lying on the floor. Sitting up compressed his stomach too much.

“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep.”

“Don’t wanna. That’ll be a waste.”

“Here, drink this soda,” Langa said, offering Reki a can still cool and dripping with condensation.

Reki cracked it open and downed a solid third of the can at once.

“Okay, yeah, I think that helped,” he said. “We should go skating in a few minutes.”

At that, some of the haze surrounding Langa drifted away.

“You saw that long, winding path right? We _have to_ skate that.”

With the promise of a thrill and the bracing air rushing through their hair, Reki and Langa banished the rest of their lethargy and headed out into the night.

“Forgot how much it sucked to walk up the mountain before going down it,” Reki griped as they made their way to the starting point. Soon enough, though, the boys looked down at a seemingly never-ending path, the pavement inky dark and surrounded by tall trees. There was no sound but for the rustling of leaves, movements of animals in the brush, and Reki and Langa’s own breathing; it felt as though there was no one in the world but the two of them, and Reki was suddenly reminded of that morning opening the restaurant.

“First one to that boulder we saw on the way here?” Langa proposed, breaking Reki from his thoughts.

“You’re on—loser pays for snacks on the way home.”

Both boys readied themselves, leaning forward and adjusting their centers of gravity; they braced their right feet on the ground, prepared to kick off. Ever so slightly turning their heads toward each other, Reki and Langa counted down then cried, in unison,

_“Go!”_

They shot forward at the same time, but Reki soon pulled ahead at the corner, Langa having still been working on perfecting his turns. He caught up on the straight and sailed past Reki, only to be faced with a large fallen branch directly in his path.

 _“Ha!_ Have fun spending your paycheck on me!” Reki teased, no longer worried about Langa’s lead on him.

However, Langa’s eyes narrowed in on the obstacle in front of him, scoping out its size and distance from him. Instinctually, he dramatically shifted his weight and soared above the branch; his hand held the board to his feet, the motion comfortingly familiar, and he triumphantly landed well ahead. Playfully flipping off Reki, Langa coasted through the rest of the course, his added speed and momentum from the jump nigh impossible to overtake.

Wide grin on his face and breathing heavy, Langa leaned against the boulder and waited for his friend. Not long after, Reki sailed in, sharply turning and skidding to an impressive stop.

“That was _insane_!” Reki exclaimed. “That kind of airtime, that kind of _clearance_ , and you’ve only been skating for a few months! You’re incredible.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done anything close to that without the board you made me,” Langa said.

Reki beamed at him, then stretched out his shoulders and back.

“Okay, so that was fun, but I’m feeling kinda sore, not gonna lie,” he said. “I think we’ve gotta go to the hot spring, we’re at an onsen, after all.”

Langa nodded his agreement and pulled out a folded-up map from his pocket.

“Oh, it’s just about here!” he pointed out their location then traced a path to their destination. “Bet it wouldn’t take long to skate there.”

Reki and Langa set off again, at a leisurely pace and chatting this time. When they arrived at the pools, there was only one other visitor, a middle-aged man whose face already looked heavily red; a sake bottle lay on its side by him—empty. As expected, he soon got out of the hot spring, leaving the entire place to Reki and Langa.

Both boys moved to take off their yukatas and enter the pool—wait, was that a slight hesitation, an awkward tension Reki felt? No, that didn’t make sense, how was this any different from dressing out for P.E. at school? _Uh, ‘cause we’re gonna be naked?_ Reki unhelpfully thought. But of course they would be naked, that’s literally how hot springs worked! There was no reason for it to be weird…but maybe that wasn’t really a thing in Canada, Reki realized.

Turned out there was no need for his worry, though, because while Reki had been caught up in his thoughts, Langa had already settled into the hot spring. He leaned his head back towards Reki, a slightly quizzical expression on his face. Okay, now _Reki_ would be making it weird if he didn’t get in, so he tossed his yukata to the side and lowered himself into the water, hissing at the temperature change.

Once Reki adjusted, he let out a quiet, contented sigh. He stretched his arms out, resting them on the ledge; his fingertips happened to brush against Langa’s shoulder, the skin hot and dotted with water droplets from cooled steam. Reki froze, about to draw his arm away with an apology, but Langa looked to him and smiled. Relaxing, Reki let the tension leave his arm, allowing his hand to comfortably rest on the back of Langa’s shoulder, right where it met his arm.

They sat in the hot spring for who knows how long, occasionally talking but mainly just enjoying each other’s constant presence, and Reki began to feel strange. Perhaps it was the swirling, spiraling steam clouding his judgment, the heat melting his inhibitions. Or perhaps it was his tiredness and languid relaxation pushing him to the one thing that could make this even better. Or perhaps it was just the privacy and proximity dashing away all his past excuses and distractions.

Reki took a deep breath through his nose, the steam and clean night air clearing through the haze of worry and leaving behind the solution. Reki had to believe everything would be alright, as long as he told the truth, he’d have done everything he could. The rest lay with Langa.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” Reki said, voice carefully casual.

Langa turned, nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Langa, I… I like you. Like, _really_ like you. As more than a friend.”

Langa’s eyes widened in surprise; he raised a hand to his face and pushed his bangs back—a nervous mannerism.

“You like… me? Like, you want to be _with_ me?”

“Yeah,” Reki answered. “Sorry if that’s not what you want, or—”

“ _No!_ ” Langa burst out. “That _is_ what I want! It’s what I’ve wanted since, I don’t know, the first few weeks you taught me to skate. I just kinda pretended I didn’t? Couldn’t make myself tell you.”

“Oh— _oh!_ Wait, does that make us… boyfriends?” Reki ventured.

“Yeah, I guess it does? If you want—”

Reki laughed, loudly and unbothered by worry.

“ _Yes,_ I want to be! I thought I was pretty obvious about that.”

“We’re pretty bad at this, aren’t we?” Langa said, also laughing.

“Oh, for sure, but I think we did pretty okay anyway.”

When Reki and Langa returned to their room, worn out but elated, they pushed their bedrolls together and fell into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
